I Don't Wanna Fight
by kyla713
Summary: I thought we would stand the test of time, but sometimes, fear and resentment can cause you to lose what you treasure the most. Inspired by the song with the same title by Westlife.
1. I Know She Still Loves Me

**A/N: This is a story I have been working on for more than a year and a half, a little bit here and there. It was just something that struck me out of the blue one day while I was listening to music (as you all know tends to be a theme for me), and the song that inspired the title (same name by the band Westlife) came on, and this is what popped up in my head. It has been a challenge on myself to write, even though it's taken me a very long time, since there are a few sensitive topics in this particular story. The first is probably made clear in the summary and in the initial chapter here, in that Edward and Bella are married, but far from happily. Another is that Edward did not have a happy or simple childhood at all, and writing Carlisle as anything but a gentle and caring man was something equally challenging on myself. And I know topics such as these will not be something that some readers will want to read. So if this is something you need to pass on, I completely understand that. It's just an Edward that would not leave me alone and get out of my head. **

**On a side note, I know it's been a while since I've updated With One Word, and I will be posting the next installment or two today, it has just decided to go silent in my head for ages now. I am trying to poke that Edward and Bella with a stick or something to get them talking to me again so I can finish, they are just being stubborn and not cooperating. **

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**Chapter 1 ~ I Know She Still Loves Me**

_I know she still loves me_

_But I don't think she likes me anymore_

_~I Know She Still Loves Me - George Strait_

As I lay here alone once again, I can't help but allow my mind to drift down the path I have been trying to avoid for three months now. How much I love her, miss her, and what a stupid ass I've been, even though my pride has not allowed me to admit it. But also, how the fuck we ended up in this mess in the first place.

Everything had started out so perfect in the beginning, as it usually does. We didn't have much, but we were still under the deluded belief that love would be enough. Then the debt started to pile up—school loans, cars, bills—and then, on top of it all, she wanted a baby, and I didn't. At least, not until we were more stable, I told her.

We both began working more, trying to get ahead, and it seems like, in that process, we started to grow apart. But she was still beside me every night whether I came home on time at five, or crept in silently at three in the morning, so everything seemed fine. Our bills slowly got paid off, we bought our first, small house together, and then…the baby issue rose again.

I came up with every reason I could think of to avoid it. I was never home and it wouldn't be fair to her or the kid. Our neighborhood wasn't the best place to raise our family, our house was too small—you name it, I tried it.

Soon enough, we were fighting all the time, and if you ask me now what even half of them consisted of, I most likely won't be able to tell you. And tonight, I find that it doesn't matter at all. We reside under the same roof, but we've been living separate lives—her in the master bedroom, and me on the couch—but it only took one statement from her tonight in the middle of one of our arguments to set my world off axis.

"_Edward, I think it's time we just face the music and get a divorce. I can't do this anymore, and we are both wasting our lives together, because we will never want the same things," she said with tears in her eyes and shaking her head. _

"_You want a divorce because I won't give you a baby? Like we are in __any__ state to have a baby right now," I retorted in disbelief. _

"_Exactly. We're not and we never will be. What are we honestly still doing together?" she asked, her lip trembling. _

"_I __thought__ we were together because we loved each other, but obviously, I was mistaken," I snapped bitterly._

_She drew in a deep breath with her eyes closed and then they opened again, there was a new sad, yet determined look in them. "Edward, I love you, but you won't go to marriage counseling with me. You've made it very clear that you do __not__ want to be a father, and that means that I have to sacrifice something I want so much, it hurts. I want to be a mother, and I would love to be one to __your__ children, but I can't have that. I've been working at a job I hate for seven years while you've built up your career. I have taken a back seat to everything __you_ _wanted. You don't want a divorce, but tell me something, Edward. When is this marriage going to be about what __both__ of us want and not just __you__?"_

_To that, I had no reply. She wasn't entirely wrong_,_ about any of it. Nothing she had ever wanted in the seven years of our marriage had come to fruition. Aside from having a baby, she never got to go back to school, or live outside the city as she'd wanted, and she __had_ _pleaded with me to go to marriage counseling with her—and I wouldn't. I refused to admit that our marriage was in that much trouble, and whatever problems we __were__ having, I didn't want to share with a third party._

"_I'm going to the courthouse tomorrow, and I'm going to file," she said softly, the first tear slipping down her cheek. "You can stay, I'll move out. Otherwise, the house is going to need to be sold, because I can't afford it. I don't want anything, I just really think it's best that we cut our losses before hurt each other anymore."_

I had watched her walk back upstairs, my heart pounding and my throat tight, collapsing back onto the couch in shock.

My wife is going to file for a divorce. She is leaving me for good. Even though I can still hear her upstairs, she is already gone. It's been two hours and I can't sleep, finding it hard to even breathe. I don't want to lose her.

Bella is my life, my entire world. My everything. How could I have let things get this far? And for what? Petty fear?

I rise from the couch and make my way upstairs, standing outside the bedroom we used to share and I hear nothing from inside. I push the door open and find the room completely dark except for the sliver of light from the bathroom, slicing a line through the center of our bed like a divider. My wife lays to one side of it, staring up at the ceiling, while the other remains cold and empty, as it has been for so long now. A visible representation of the space that has come between us. I brace my hands on either side of the doorframe, pinching my eyes closed as I feel my heart shattering all over again.

"Please don't leave me, Bella," I whisper in a voice I can barely recognize, lifting my head to gaze across the room at her through blurred vision.

Bella's eyes close but she remains otherwise still, and my grip tightens on the wood and my breaths become more difficult to take. She is resolved, shutting me out—our marriage is over. Everything I have ever wanted, she is taking away, since it all resides in her. "I don't know what else you want me to do, Edward. My heart can only break so many times before there is no putting it back together again."

I slide down the doorframe until I settle onto the floor, staring at the other side. "Do you really still love me?"

"That was never in question," she replies softly, the first hint of emotion crackling her voice. "I love you so much, it's actually killing me inside. But what are either of us getting out of this marriage right now other than pain?"

I clasp my hands behind my neck with my elbows resting on my knees. "I'll do anything, Bella. I'll go to marriage counseling, we can have a baby, anything you want. Please, just don't say it's over. I love you so much. I'm begging you, please."

I hear the movement of the blanket, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to glance over at her. Probably because I don't think I can bear seeing that look on her face again, telling me that I've lost her. "Edward, a baby is the last thing I want right now. It's not the answer to our problems. If that's all that mattered to me, I would have left you _years_ ago."

I finally turn my head toward Bella to find her sitting on the side of the bed, the trail of tears streaming down her face glistening on her skin in the dim light from the hall. Her fingers are clenched on the edge of the mattress and her lips are pressed into a thin line. "What _do_ you want?"

My voice is soft in a gentle request; I'm willing to do anything to save my marriage, but her expression doesn't change. "I _want_ the man I fell in love with. The Edward that wouldn't have waited until I had a foot out the door already, so to speak, before he told me that he loved me and thought our marriage was worth fighting for. I want to go back three months to when I first asked you to go to counseling with me and have you say yes, to show me that _we_ meant that much to you _then_. Not as a last resort because I've asked for a divorce. And for you to _want_ our baby because you want to start a family with me, instead of just giving me what you think _will save our marriage_. But all of these things are impossible."

I shake my head and rise from the floor, walking over to her and kneeling at her feet. "Baby, I'm right here, and I've _always_ loved you. I meant every vow I made to you the day we got married and that's never changed. I'm sorry it's taken me so long, but please, give me one more chance."

"Then _talk_ to me and stop shutting me out," Bella replies with a sob, but still held my eyes. "I didn't get married to live alone like this, even with you here. And I won't stay if it's going to remain this way. I want a _life_ with you, not an obligation you feel the need to hold up your end of. I'm not asking you to beg me to stay. I need you to tell me why I should."

"I love you, Bella. You're everything to me. I'm more sorry than you'll ever know that I've made you so unhappy," I tell her, reaching my hand up to her cheek but she turns her face away from me. "Baby, please, tell me what I need to do."

"I can't tell you that. There's no step by step manual on how to fix a broken marriage," Bella whispers, shaking her head and I feel my heart plummet with the word "broken". It sounded so final. "I've never doubted that you love me, Edward, even when you didn't say or show it. But somehow, we still ended up right here."

I lower my head, barely an inch away from resting on her knees. She's never pulled away from my touch like that, or ever sounded so defeated when she's spoken to me. And that scares the hell out of me. "Will you please go to counseling with me? I know I have no right to ask that after refusing you so many times. If it doesn't work and you still want to leave me, I'll let you go. But can we please try?"

"I don't want you to let me go," Bella says softly and I feel her fingers running gently through my hair. It's been so long since I've felt her touch me in any way, I nearly crumble right there and I allow my head to rest on her lap. "But for this to work, you'll have to talk. It's going to take effort on both our parts, or it will be pointless to even go."

I nod, sliding my hands over her hips to rest on the small of her back. "I will, I promise."

"And complete honesty, no matter the topic, and not just what you think I _want_ to hear," she continues and I nod again, holding around her waist even tighter. "Okay, I'll make the call. But while we're doing this, it will probably be best if we continue to sleep separately. We need to build up from the foundation again and it might confuse things otherwise. If you want, you can take the bed. I know the couch has been bothering your legs and back lately."

I close my eyes and sigh; I know she's probably right, no matter how much I want to be beside her at the moment. But there is no way I'm making her sleep on the couch. I broke us, not her. "No, Bella. I'll be fine. Thank you."

I lift my head to look at her, taking her free hand and kissing her knuckles. Again, she doesn't pull away and meets my eyes instead. "Let's get some sleep. I'll make the call in the morning before I go to work."

I nod and rise from the floor, still holding her hand. "Are there any other rules to this?"

"Like what?" she asks, gazing up at me questioningly.

I squeeze her fingers gently and take a deep breath. "Can I tell you I love you and kiss you goodnight?"

Bella stands up in front of me, her lips trembling with a nod of her own. "Tonight, yes. After that, let's see what the counselor says."

"Okay," I reply, even though I'd hoped for a slightly different answer. My hands shake as I bring them to cradle her face and lower my lips to hers.

Bella's fingers grip my shirt at my sides, releasing a half-whimper, half choked sob as she returns my kiss, as I feel a tear hit the tip of my nose where it rests on her cheek. I continue holding her face, praying that this won't be the last time I feel her lips against mine, or her touch. I keep kissing her with that terrifying thought in my mind until we both need to breathe, but even then, I rest my forehead on hers.

"I love you so much, Bella," I whispered, tracing the pads of my thumbs over her damp cheeks.

"I love you, too," Bella replies just as softly, brushing her lips against mine once more before stepping back from me and sitting down on the bed again with her eyes lowered. "Goodnight, Edward."

I sigh—she won't even look at me. I can only hope I haven't hurt her beyond repair. "Goodnight."

With that, I make my way back to the door and look at her one last time before closing it behind me, hearing her cries once again from inside the moment it clicks.

_Please God, let me fix this._

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**Thank you if you're still with me here. You guys are awesome :)**


	2. The Mile Wide Gap

**A/N: I am truly amazed by the response to this story so far, given the rough start, but I wanted to say a quick thank you to all of you for sticking with me. I was very nervous about the reaction to this story for obvious reasons, and still am, but you guys have really helped to calm my nerves. **

**And as always, a big hug to ericastwilight for being my backbone and kick in the ass when I really need it. She is my biggest cheerleader behind the scenes, and I really don't think I can ever thank her enough. Thank you for keeping me writing and not letting me give up!**

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**Chapter 2 ~ The Mile Wide Gap**

The next two weeks pass slowly until we finally have our first appointment scheduled with the counselor. Yet, as I sit here in the chair beside her in the waiting room before our session begins, I am nervous and I can't stop my leg from bouncing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bella asks in a soft voice and I look over to her. She's asked me this question at least a dozen times in the last fourteen days, always with that uncertainty in her gaze.

"Are you?" I inquire in reply and she nods, but her eyes continue to flicker between mine. "Then I'm sure."

Bella's shoulders relax and she releases a slow breath, then she stiffens again as our names are called. I want to hold her hand, to comfort her somehow, and it tears at my heart to know that I can't be the source of it for her.

We walk together down the long hallway, following the woman leading us toward a small corner office at the end with a plaque that reads "Juan Molina, Couples Counselor". When it opens, the man stands from his chair to greet us both with a handshake. "Edward, Bella, my name is Juan. Please come in and have a seat."

Bella crosses the room and settles at the far end of one of the couches, rubbing her palms over her skirt. I sit at the other and lean forward on my knees with my elbows as he lowers onto the loveseat across from us.

"I wish I could say that you have nothing to be nervous about and this won't hurt, but obviously, I can't guarantee that. Your body language speaks volumes, as does the fact that you chose the longer couch to sit on. Can you tell me why you did that, Bella?" he begins, leaning back and folding his hands around his knee, which is crossed over the other.

Bella nervously tucks her hair behind her ear and shrugs. "I don't know. I wasn't really thinking about it, to be honest."

His eyes turn to me and my heart seems to rise into my throat. "And Edward? What made you decide to sit way over there, away from your wife?"

I shift uncomfortably and feel Bella's eyes on me as well. "I'm giving her space. We're not as close as we once were and I've hurt her, a lot. I'm the reason we're here in the first place."

"Okay, now that we've gotten that out of the way, this is the last blame we'll speak of in this room. And I ask that it carries over to outside these walls, as well," he says and we both turn our eyes to him. "Laying blame is the easiest thing to do when problems arise in a marriage, and while I admire your willingness to take responsibility, that's never the solution. It's much more difficult to admit to the source. A relationship takes two people to make _or_ break it, either by trying to make it work or by giving up. So my next question is, are you both willing to move past the blame and work toward the solution? It won't be easy or painless. I'm sure things will be heard and said in this room that might hurt, some more than others. But honest communication is the only answer. Can you both agree to that?"

"Yes," Bella answers immediately and I close my eyes, feeling relief flood through me at her lack of hesitation.

"What about you, Edward?" he asks after a moment and I realize I have yet to answer him.

"Yes. Definitely, yes."

"Great. Let's get started then."

For the next twenty minutes, we talk about how we met, what first attracted us to each other—the foundation, as Bella calls it. For a moment, we are both smiling as she remembers that first day of college, when she literally ran into me, knocking our books out of our hands and me onto the ground with them. At the time, I didn't outweigh her by much; I was tall and lanky, and definitely not in an attractive way at all.

However, when I looked up from where I had fallen, behind those thick glasses she was pushing back up her nose and beneath the baggy sweater and cropped brown hair, stood the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. Her blush of embarrassment rose on her cheeks as she crouched down to collect her books, profusely apologizing for her clumsiness.

To this day, I am positive that was the moment I fell in love with her, and she says it was the same for her. Two years later, we had moved in together, she'd left college to get a job while I finished my degree, and we were married in a small private ceremony that summer by a justice of the peace. Our families had refused to attend, insisting we were making a terrible mistake, but we had each other, and at the time, that was all that mattered.

"So, what changed?" Juan asks and we glance at each other briefly before returning our eyes to our laps.

I feel my stomach clench inside me as neither of us speak for a moment, and I nearly find myself regretting coming to this place. I know what changed and caused this gap between us—I was, and still am, a coward. "Bella wants children."

"And you do not," he finishes for me and raises his eyebrow in question.

When I simply look away, Bella sighs heavily. "That isn't our biggest problem."

My eyes turn quickly to her, genuinely surprised by her statement. "Bella, it _always_ comes back to kids."

"Because _you_ bring it there," Bella exclaims, looking at me with tears in her eyes.

"Bella," Juan interjects in a calm voice and Bella folds her arms around herself. "No blame, remember? Why don't we start with what you believe the problem is and talk it through?"

"He _won't _talk to me," Bella begins and he gestures to me with his hand, redirecting her attention back to me. "There's been nothing but excuses between us for seven years. Yes, I want children. I want them so much, it hurts, and you know that. But you're not just some walking, talking sperm bank to me. I could mail-order that. It's not why I married you."

"I know that. But anytime we see one of your friends with their kids, you get this look. And then, all we do is fight for the rest of the day," I reply in exasperation, driving my hands in my hair.

"Edward, I wouldn't say a damn thing if you would stop asking and asking and asking me what's wrong. If you know, why do you ask? What, do you want me to alleviate your conscience?" Bella asks, waving her arms out. "Or maybe I should just pretend those feelings aren't there? What is so wrong with wanting to have a family with my husband?"

"What is so wrong with _not _wanting that?" I retort, clenching my fists tightly on either side of my head.

"Nothing, but _why_? If you just didn't like kids, maybe I could understand. But you're great with your brother's kids," Bella said and my hands fall.

"Why does there have to be a reason? What does my niece and nephew have to do with the desire to be a father myself?"

"And there you go again, answering every single one of my questions with more of your own," Bella huffs and leans back roughly into the couch, refusing to look at me as she continued to speak. "_This_ is our biggest problem, and _exactly_ what has changed. You keep bottling things up and I can't reach you. We used to be able to talk, even if it was just simple things. Now, I'm lucky if I get a single word from you when you walk in the door, unless we start arguing. I want a husband, not a verbal sparring partner."

"Edward, let me ask you something. Do you still love your wife?" Juan asks and I stare at him incredulously.

"Would I be here if I didn't?" I snap in a sharp tone and he looks at me over his glasses, telling me to just answer the question. "Of course, I love my wife. What kind of question is that?"

He ignores my question and looks at my wife. "And Bella, do you still love your husband?"

Bella's lips trembles and a tear falls down her cheek with her nod. "Very much."

"How often do you tell each other that?" he asks and we look at each other briefly. Aside from the night she told me she was leaving me, I am having a difficult time remembering the last time I just told her I loved her for no reason, and vice versa. We both shift uncomfortably in our seats and fold our hands in our laps, looking down to them like two scolded children. "And how often do you make love?"

I cough, clearing my throat and shaking my head. "That's between me and my wife."

"Once a month, if we're lucky," Bella replies, one of her hands rising to the back of her neck, cupping around it. "But it's been a while. He's been sleeping on the couch for a few months now."

"For God's sake, Bella," I groan, my jaw tightening.

"What? Do you want me to lie to the man and say that we go at it like rabbits in the bedroom, but we just can't bear to be in any other room of the house together for any length of time? Even though who knows when the last time you even _touched_ me was?" Bella asks through clenched teeth and her eyes pinched closed.

"No, that's private, and not something to discuss with a complete stranger," I reply, my gaze cutting over to her sharply.

"Well, it's not something you discuss with your _wife,_ either. But of course, that's what _you_ want," Bella growls sarcastically, tugging at her hair. "And what if I _do_ want to talk about it? That I miss having sex with my husband. That I'm tired of going to bed alone and relying on a vibrator if the need arises because my husband won't fuck me, since _oh my God_, he might accidentally get me pregnant. You know, because that is the worst possible thing that could _ever_ happen."

"Bella, can we please just talk about this at _home_?" I say tersely, her bold words making me exceedingly uncomfortable, especially when not in private.

"I think that is a very good idea. And that will be your homework until next session," Juan interrupts, setting his pad on the table. "For at least an hour every single day, you are both to sit down together somewhere quiet and undisturbed, and just talk. No interruptions, no exceptions. Even turn off your cell phones if you need to. The first step you obviously need to make is reopening the lines of communication between you. One night, Bella chooses the topic, and Edward the next, and that is the _only_ thing you discuss that day. And by the end of this next week, I want you to have a general idea of what it is that each of you wants from this marriage."

I don't reply, but Bella nods, and we stand to make our way out of the office when he tells us that the time is up for our session.

"Oh," Bella pauses, turning back to look at him from the door. "I meant to ask. I know we shouldn't try to just jump back into bed together. But what about everything else? Should we keep things the way they've been? I mean, are there rules to this?"

"For now, I think that might be wise. Treat this time as if you've just started dating again and are building the intimacy between you. Maybe even go out on a date to dinner or something. It's a good place to start," he replies with a smile.

His words anger me and I storm through the lobby, pushing the door open roughly and stepping outside. I get into my car and wait for Bella, my hands already in a tight grip around the steering wheel.

Bella runs out and pulls the passenger door open. "What are you doing? We need to make the next appointment."

"I'm not coming back here. We can fix this ourselves," I growl without looking at her. "You are my wife, Bella. Not my girlfriend, my _wife_. I'm not going to play this make-believe game that it's anything different. And I am _not_ discussing our sex life with him like we're talking about the fucking weather."

"Then maybe this just won't work," Bella replies sadly. "Because, like I said in there, you won't talk about it with _me_, either."

I roll my neck and shift in my seat, closing my eyes. "Just get in the car, Bella. Please."

"I'm making another appointment first. If you decide to join me for it, great. If not—"

"We're over?" I ask, turning my eyes to her. "Is that the ultimatum you're giving me?"

Bella breathes in deeply, her hold on the doorframe tightening. "I didn't say that. We'll talk about this at home, _with_ another appointment in place first."

With that, she pushes the door closed and walks back inside, while I start the engine and prop my elbow on the ledge of the window. My thumb massages my temple as I wait for her to return again. I can't believe that my marriage may actually hang in the balance of divulging the intimate details of it to a stranger.

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**Yes, it's gonna be little rough for them for a bit. But one thing I can promise you all for sure, since I was asked in a review about this, there will be absolutely no cheating on either side.**

**Hugs to all! Thanks again for reading my ramblings!**


	3. Two Steps Back

**A/N: So help me, I really don't know why my brain wanted to hold onto and tell a story like this, but I am very grateful to all of you who have come back and stuck with me. Marriage counseling is a very difficult process to go through, having been there myself many many years ago (obviously not successfully, but through no fault of the counselor), and I'm sure it's not a lot of fun to read about, either. So I'm even more thankful. **

**Edward is a tough nut to crack, quite stubborn, as I was. And I know he's quite frustrating, but I am digging out the chisel on him, I promise! If I don't, I think ericastwilight might throttle me or something lol. So I totally understand if some of you are ready to as well.  
**

**Thanks again, and take care. **

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**Chapter 3 ~ Two Steps Back**

One week later, we are seated back on that couch.

"I'm glad to see you've decided to return, Edward," Juan greets us as he sits down across from us again. "Considering how you felt after last time, I wasn't sure."

My gaze shifts to Bella again and I narrow my eyes slightly. "You _told_ him?"

"Edward, she didn't say anything. You aren't the first husband to storm out of here as you did last week, especially when the topic of sex is broached. Several wives have, as well. Many feel just as you do, that sex is a private matter in a marriage," he replies and my body tenses even more. "There have even been some that have not returned. This is a positive step. I can't promise that sex will never be a subject of discussion again here, because it will. It is an integral part of a marriage, and obviously important to you both. Bella in her desire to mend it, and you in your protectiveness of it. I understand that it's very intimate and personal, and we will take this one step at a time."

I lower my head and nod, attempting to dispel the discomfort I feel at the topic, but also feeling guilt swarm over me at my assumption and accusatory tone toward my wife. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"So how did the rest of your week go?" Juan asks in a tone way too calm and pleasant, and it sets my nerves on edge, but I know I am just overreacting.

Bella glances over to me, gesturing with her hand for me to go first.

I sigh, folding my arms over my chest. "To be honest, yes, I was really pissed off after the last session, and we fought when we got home. I'm not an idiot, I know things will get… personal in here. But I have never discussed my marriage or what I do with my wife in the bedroom with _anyone_, not even friends. And I haven't been married for seven years just to start acting like some lovesick teenager again. There was a lot said to that effect."

"And Bella, how did you feel about that?" Juan asks, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes at the nearly textbook line of questioning I can foresee from here.

"I got angry, too," Bella answers, and then her voice dips a little more and she shrugs. "And it hurt. We agreed that we would be open and honest here, no matter the topic. It was kinda the whole point of counseling, because we _weren't _talking anymore, and I started getting discouraged. Sometimes, I _want_ him to be that 'lovesick teenager' over me. I know it's not realistic _all_ the time, but I miss him kissing me for no reason. Or wanting me so much that he can't keep his hands off me. Or hell, even taking my hand in public because he saw some guy looking at me, and letting him know 'she's mine'."

"And she told you this?" Juan asks, now turning his attention to me.

I nod and look down as he inquires about my reaction. "It made me angrier, and I refused to talk about it anymore. She hated that kind of stuff when we were dating. She'd always tell me that she wasn't a damn possession."

"When it's all the time, sure. But once in a while, it's nice to know that your husband thinks you've still got something for other men to stare at," Bella says, glancing over at me for a moment with a look in her eyes I can't remember ever seeing before—but it was definitely sad.

"Just because I don't beat you over the head with a club and drag you back to the cave doesn't mean I don't still find you attractive," I reply, dragging my fingers through my hair and gripping it at the back of my head. "You're fucking gorgeous, Bella."

"So what made you decide to come back?" Juan asks curiously, bringing our attention back to him.

I take a deep breath and run my palms along my thighs. "I love my wife, I really do. And she was right, we really _don't_ talk anymore. I didn't realize how true that was until that moment last week. I completely shut down from her. I just have a lot of trouble saying what I feel at times. I wasn't raised to be overly forthcoming, especially with the intimate details of my life. Everything is very private in my family."

"I'm not your parents or your brother, Edward. I don't want you to hide things from me," Bella says gently, without a single trace of anger. Her voice is soft and her eyes have saddened more.

"Edward, do you think you can look at Bella and tell her how you're feeling right now?" Juan asks, crossing one leg over the other. "No one is here to judge you, and you can say anything you wish. Imagine I'm not here, if you need to."

I tense, gripping my knees firmly and my throat tightens, and I see her turn toward me from the corner of my eye. "I love you, Bella."

"Will you look at me? Please?" Bella asks in a gentle but desperate tone and I swallow hard, turning my head toward her. "Why are you so afraid to talk to me unless we're screaming our heads off at each other or I'm about to leave you because I just can't bear it anymore? _We_ are family, too, Edward. You and me. I want you to trust me."

"I _do_ trust you," I reply with a furrowed brow.

"Enough to know that I would never cheat on you, maybe. And yeah, we've talked this week, but it's like pulling teeth to get you to open up to me, even just to tell me how your day was," Bella says, her hand clapping against her denim clad thigh in frustration. "That's not the only kind of trust I want between us."

"Okay, Bella? Take a moment and a deep breath," Juan interjects, holding his hand up to stop her. "And then calmly tell Edward how _you_ are feeling right now."

Bella blinks back her tears and inhales slowly, closing her eyes as she releases her breath and then looks to me again. "I know you love me, and I love you more than I could ever explain in this lifetime. I never want to lose you, but I feel that, in a lot of ways, I already have. I miss my husband, I miss my lover, I miss my friend. And I want to believe that the man I married, who encompassed all those things, is still in there somewhere and I'm not as alone as I feel sometimes."

"Bella, I told you, I'm still the same man," I reply, resting my elbow on the back of the couch and pressing my fingertips to my forehead. "_You_ didn't trust _me_ enough to tell me how much you hated your job and that you felt it was my fault that you were still there. Or that our marriage was in so much trouble that you were ready to file for a divorce."

"You were sleeping on the _couch_, Edward!" Bella exclaimed, her hand fisting on her thigh. "What part of not sharing the same bed with your wife for three months did you construe as being _normal_?"

My hand runs over my face while Juan intercedes, attempting to diffuse the situation between us. We are pointing fingers again, without realizing we're doing it, or even intending to. I look to my wife and take a deep breath, fighting against everything that has been hammered into me from the moment I was born. "In my family, we don't talk about our feelings, it's an admittance of weakness. We are private, we do not show pain or fear, and we definitely do not cry. You don't understand, Bella, I've opened up to you more than any single person in my entire life. I've never _begged _for anything before, ever. I'm my father's son, and I'm the oldest. And there's nothing I have ever wanted to be less."

Bella stares at me in shocked disbelief, completely speechless and barely even appearing to breathe. I've shielded her from everyone in my family but my brother, and _never_ discussed with her at length about my parents. All she knew was that my father was strict and we didn't get along.

After a few moments of silence, Juan leans forward and folds his hands in front of him. "Go ahead, Edward. Nothing is forbidden to speak of in here and nothing leaves this room, except with you and Bella."

I feel about five years old all over again, terrified to speak. Bella seems to sense this and slides close to me, gently taking my hand. Her thumb ghosts along my skin and I freeze, shaking my head as I feel bile rising in my throat, my chest tightens and I'm having difficulty breathing, and my guard instinctively goes up. "I can't. I'm sorry, I can't."

"Edward, please," Bella begs me but I pull my hand away from her hold and stand.

"Bella, don't you understand? I _can't_!" I exclaim and she jumps at the ferocity and volume of my voice. "If that means that you need to leave me, then I guess I will have no choice but to let you go."

"Edward! Baby, please come back," I hear Bella cry out from behind me as I leave the office, thankful that we met here today since I was running late after work. I can't meet her eyes as she pushes the office door open roughly, but I am already in my car, backing out and speeding out of the parking lot.

I need time. To clear my head and dispel the near panic attack beginning to course through me, with my father's words screaming at me in my mind as I drive.

_You're being weak, Edward. You're allowing your emotions to dictate you. Look where that got your brother. That woman walks all over him and those children are the most unruly, disrespectful brats I have ever encountered in my life. And you're becoming a disappointment, just like him. Bella is not your friend, she is your __wife__ and she needs to know her place._

And this is exactly why I haven't spoken to my father outside the office in years, and have shielded Bella from him. Yet, as much as I was determined to avoid it, I have become just like him. I can't say when my main priority in life has stopped being my wife, and I became married to my work. A job I'd gone to college for a business degree for, though it was the last thing I wanted, all because it was in my father's plan. Or when I began treating her the same way he treats my mother. I've destroyed the most incredible thing to happen to me, because I no longer view her as my friend—and she's the best one I've ever had.

And "brats"—that is how my father refers to his _grandchildren._

My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking me out of my thoughts, and I pull over to the side of the road. I cut the engine and lean back in my seat, knowing it's Bella, but I can't bring myself to answer the call and I let it go to voicemail. It's a dickish move; I'm sure she's probably worried about me, because that is just how my wife is. Even when we are screaming and pissed at each other, she never loses her concern for me. I just can't let her hear me like this.

I finally reach into my pants pocket to retrieve my phone when it vibrates again, and I look to it and see a text from her.

_It's been three hours. If you don't want to come home right now, that's fine. Just please let me know you're okay._

I rest my elbow on the window ledge, my fingertips running along my lips with my phone held tight in the other hand on my lap. I don't deserve her, and as much as I love her, I probably should never have married her. Because she doesn't deserve _this_. She should be married to a man who would appreciate everything she does and give her the life and all the babies she could ever want. A true partner in life.

I lift my phone to stare at her message again—I can't let her sit at home, worrying about my sorry ass.

_I'm fine. Be home soon._

Once I send the text, I lean my head back again and slam my palm against the steering wheel in frustration. I'm not angry with her, but I'm furious with myself. Why is she paying the price for _my_ issues? This is not at all the husband I wanted to be for her when I asked her to marry me and put that ring on her finger. I can see her in my mind, pacing the living room floor and praying that I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere, and crying in relief when she receives my short text.

What an asshole I am.

I start my car again and turn around. It is now pitch dark outside and I'm out in the middle of nowhere, already halfway to Seattle. It will be at least an hour or two before I am back in my driveway, unless I drive like a maniac—which I am half tempted to do. And even though I know she'll probably still be waiting up for me when I return, I decide to take my time in order to collect my thoughts.

Part of me knows that I should let her go, let her file for divorce and move on with her life. Even though that thought causes such an unbearable ache inside me that it materializes into a crippling, physical pain and I can barely breathe. I love her too much for _her_ own good.


	4. Rollercoaster

**A/N: I meant to post this yesterday and stay on schedule, but things got a little crazy. School starts tomorrow, though, (YAY!) so I'm praying that will mean more writing time for the mom person. Love having my kid around for the most part, but as any parent can attest, you only get the first few days once summer vacation starts, a week if you're lucky, before they are bored out of their wits and need to talk to you and ask you about absolutely everything, so you'll find them something to do. I **_**swear **_**that's their goal. Lol **

**This isn't going to be a very long story (I don't think), as I am trying to wrap it up now, as far as writing goes anyway, and I'm on chapter 9 right now. Now that my head isn't quite as cluttered as it had been for the last few months, things are flowing easier, and I'm trying to get more done. I am working on the next part of With This Word, as well as working together with ericastwilight on a few things we have up our sleeve and will hopefully be posting before long on a joint account. I will keep you all posted on that. :)**

**Thank you again to all of you who have stuck with me with this story. **

* * *

**Chapter 4 ~ Rollercoaster**

When I finally pull into my driveway, I spot her in the window, holding the curtain aside for a moment before letting it go and disappearing. I blow out a slow breath and am stepping out of my car when the front door swings open, with my beautiful wife standing just inside. Moving up the walk slowly, her face becomes clearer and I see the evidence of hours' worth of tears in her swollen eyes.

I open the outside door and pause in front of her until a sob escapes her chest and she closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders. I embrace her waist firmly, holding her as we move together inside the house and kicking the door closed behind us.

"God, you scared the shit out of me," she cries against my chest, her hand clutching the fabric of my shirt at my back as her hold secures around me more.

"I'm sorry. I just had a lot of thinking to do," I mumble into her hair and she pulls her head back to look at me questioningly. "And I really think you should leave me."

Bella's eyes tear more as she removes her arms from me, stepping back and shaking her head. "You don't mean that."

"I do, Bella. I can't be the man you need," I reply, moving past her and walking into the living room. I sit down on the couch roughly and she remains in the doorway, staring at me in disbelief. "You love this house, so you stay. I'll make the payments on it. I'm not going to make you suffer any more than you already have because I've failed you."

"And you think this will end the suffering? I don't want _things_, Edward. Take the car, take the house, I'll work as secretary for the rest of my life, I don't care. All I really want is _you. _Everything else in inconsequential," Bella cries out and crosses the room to sit beside me. "Tell me why. _Why_ should I leave you? What has changed that you don't want to fight for us now? Do you not love me anymore?"

I wince painfully and close my eyes, my heart feeling as if it has risen to my throat and ready to burst through. "Nothing could be further from the truth. I love you too much."

"What is that supposed to mean? How do you love someone _too much_?" Bella exclaims, rising from the couch and I look up to her. I can feel tears burning in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. "Is this about your father?"

I clench my pant legs in my fists and my jaw tenses, and I once again find it difficult to breathe. "You can't understand. I've kept you away from him all this time so you would never have to even try to."

"_Make_ me understand, Edward. If I'm going to lose my marriage and the man I love to it, I think I _deserve_ to know why. Does he not like me or think I'm not good enough for you? What?" she asks, waving her arms out.

"He doesn't like _me_ since I've been with you, not that it's much of a change from before. But it's through no fault of _yours_. He's never even _met_ you, how could he not like you? I couldn't stand the thought of you ever meeting him. I never wanted you to look at me, and see him," I answer and stand as well, moving across the room and resting my hands on the bookshelf. "You were right, Bella. I'm _not_ the man you married. _That_ man actually put the effort into setting you above everything and was ready to give you the world if you asked for it."

"And now?" she asks softly and I turn my head to look at her. She stands with her arms wrapped around her middle and her lips pressed firmly together until they've nearly disappeared.

I drive my hand into my hair, agonizing over the pain I see clearly displayed on her face. "You don't know the real man you married. If you did, you never would have."

Bella's arms fall to her sides and her eyes rise up to force back more tears, and then she sighs heavily. "I _know_ who I married, Edward. And I know you have issues with your father. Just because you won't tell me what they are, doesn't mean that I don't know that they're there beneath the surface, all the time. You don't need to. I see it, every single day. I'm not blind."

"And that's no way for you to _live_. I don't _want_ you to end up like my mother or our kids to turn out _anything_ like me. That's not what your future should be," I exclaim, causing her to startle slightly.

"You're your father's son," she says distantly, almost as if she isn't even talking to me, but simply repeating my words from earlier. "That's why you don't want to have a baby with me."

I brace my hands on the shelf in front of me and rest my forehead on it at her knowing tone. "Bella, I've already destroyed you and our marriage, and you've done nothing to deserve it. How can I do that to innocent children?"

I hear her footsteps padding across the carpet until she's standing right behind me and I feel her hands resting on either side of my waist. "Baby, talk to me. I've never pressed you to talk about your family, because I know how much it upsets you. But right now, this is putting our marriage on the line, and I am nowhere near ready to throw in the towel on us. There has to still be that part of you in there that wants to fight for it. It couldn't have disappeared in the matter of hours. So please, tell me what this is about. You can trust me, Edward."

I lift my head from the edge of the shelf and gaze at the photograph set there, of her on the beach. We'd been married for a matter of months, and despite the cool, autumn weather, we'd decided to spend the day there together, away from all the pressures and stresses of everyday life. I remember watching her as I returned from the car with a blanket to wrap around her. She was sitting a few feet from the shoreline, staring out at the water with the wind blowing her loose tendrils of hair in wisps around her face. The baggy sweater she wore hid her beautiful curves and covered her to mid-thigh, but she was still the most gorgeous woman I'd ever laid eyes on. I managed to capture that moment on my phone just before she noticed my presence, and laughed as she hid her face in her knees.

I take the frame in my hand and step away, moving back to the couch and sitting down. "We were so happy back then."

"I want to believe there's no reason why we can't be again," Bella says gently and comes to sit beside me, but leaves several inches of cushion between us. "You say you still love me, and I've never ceased to love you. And I never will, no matter what. Whether you leave me or not, whether we ever have children or not. I'm _always_ going to love you."

"Is love really enough?" I ask, turning my gaze from the picture to her. "Because I do love you, Bella, but I want you to be happy. And you want to have kids so badly, and you should. You would be a fabulous mother, that I know for certain. I can't be so sure about my ability to be a good father."

"I don't have any doubts about that," she replies and I feel my face contort in disgust, with myself. "I _don't_, and you shouldn't, either. Look how you are with your brother's kids, and how Emmett is, for that matter. He's an entirely different man from your father, from the little you've told me of him. You can be, too."

"Things were different with Emmett," I mumble, my fingers clenching around the metal frame until I set it on the coffee table and fold my hands in front of me. "My mother shielded and protected him from my father. That was her baby and she wouldn't allow her husband to treat him as he did me. I don't believe that my mother cares for me any less than she does for my brother, but I was already molded into the miniature version of my father by the time Emmett was born. And I was only _three_ years old."

Bella's hand rises to rest on my shoulder and then gently runs up and down my back. "Honey, it was your mother's responsibility to protect _both_ of you. I'm not going to sit here and verbally bash a woman I don't know, but that _is_ one aspect in which she failed you terribly. And I would never choose one child over any other."

"Please, don't. No matter what she has or hasn't done, that's still my mother," I reply tersely, my fingers tightening in my hair.

"I'm sorry," Bella whispers, removing her touch from me and sliding back a few more inches.

I reach over to her and take her hand, tugging her gently toward me until her knee presses against my thigh and weave my fingers through hers. "You are everything to me, Bella. But I don't want to hurt you anymore and I _never_ want to put you in a position where you _have_ to protect our children like that. Not from me."

Bella's hold tightens on me, and she strokes her thumb lightly over my skin. "Edward, I am a firm believer in nature versus nurture. The man you are is not entirely a product of how you were raised. Look at the picture again."

I turn my eyes to look at her and she gestures to the frame on the table. I draw in a deep breath before gazing at the photograph and shake my head. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Her," she replies, pointing to herself in the image. "The man that woman married was nothing like your father. He was kind and compassionate. He had an amazing heart and _always_ made sure she knew exactly how much she was loved. That doesn't sound like an 'emotionless bastard' to me."

"But I've changed, Bella," I sigh and close my eyes.

"The _core_ of who you are has never changed, baby," Bella answers emphatically, turning my face with her hand to look at her. "If it had, we'd be on our way to a divorce already. You would have just let me go, not begged me to stay."

"I want to believe that, Bella. I _want_ to believe that I can be the husband I planned to be," I pause, swallowing hard against the lump forming in my throat. "That I can be a father that my kids wouldn't be afraid of. No child should ever experience that."

"Did your father … hit you?" Bella asks hesitantly, her back stiffening slightly with her eyes lowered.

I shake my head, squeezing her hand gently. "No, he never had to. There are other ways to discipline children than physically striking them."

Bella gasps softly and I turn my gaze to meet hers again, seeing confusion and fear written within their depths, but not from me. I selfishly need her, pulling her closer to my side and drawing my strength from her. "Edward, you can tell me anything."

"I had to be the perfect image of what he expected from his son, or I was as worthless as my brother and an embarrassment to the family name. And I don't want another child to feel that way," I continue, trying to keep my voice level while my chest restricts, my head screaming at me to shut up. Yet, as I gaze into the beautiful eyes of my wife, my heart pounds with desire to release twenty-eight years of pent up frustration and hurt, and reminding me that she is the one I can trust…or should. "For example, if I spoke out of turn, I was put in a corner, holding a stack of heavy books until my arms felt like they were going to fall off. If I cried, I was sent to bed without dinner, and if I didn't stop, it carried over to breakfast as well. It got to the point that, even if my mother or brother tried to sneak me something when my father wasn't looking, I 'knew' I deserved to be punished and wouldn't take it. By the time I was probably about seven, I just shut myself down. It was better not to feel anything, and then I'd be his model son, but somehow, I never was. Then you came along, and I really thought I could be a better man, and I was wrong. I've turned out just like him and I'm terrified of doing that to another child."

Bella lowers to the floor to kneel in front of me as I instinctively begin steeling myself again, releasing my hand and taking my face between hers. Her eyes lock with mine seriously and she shakes her head. "You are _nothing_ like him, and I know damn well you wouldn't, Edward. Not only would I _never_ allow _anyone_ to break my child's spirit that way, much less his or her father, but you know how much that hurts. I don't believe the man I fell in love with could ever do that."

I lean back into the couch and close my eyes again, forcing back the tears that are threatening to fall again and turning my head to the side. Her hands fall to my knees and use them to push herself up, but instead of walking away, she lowers onto my lap and straddles my legs. "Bella…"

"No, look at me," she says, squeezing her thighs around mine as I attempt to move her to my side again. "_Look_ at me, Edward."

I open my eyes as she turns my face toward her with her hands, my jaw tense in my attempt to maintain control of myself. "Okay. I'm looking at you."

"This is _me_, honey. You don't need to hide anything from me," she murmurs softly, tracing her fingertips over my cheek. "You can cry, scream, laugh, whatever it is you feel. I'm your wife and I love you, and I would never judge you for any of it. I always want you to feel freely with me."

"I'm not sure I know how to do that," I reply in a quiet tone, lowering my eyes from her again.

"You _can_," she says firmly, taking my hand from her waist and pressing it to her face. "You _have_. You've _been_ happy with me at one time, remember? We've laughed together, and God knows, we've screamed our heads off at each other over the years. We've loved and hurt one another. That's all emotion, Edward. It doesn't make you less of a man to _feel_. It makes you _human_, and the person I fell in love with."

My breath leaves me in a rush as I feel the first tear I've shed since I was a young boy trickle down my face. My arms slide around her waist again as hers encircle my shoulders, embracing me tightly. I feel my body wrack with sobs, a lifetime of restraint finally releasing, but instead of feeling weak and pathetic, I feel loved and protected. The caress of her touch, the press of her lips to my hair, and her whispered words telling me that everything is okay, that _I_ am okay—it is all something I've never experienced. She doesn't need to _tell_ me she loves me; it's coming through in everything she's _doing_. Why did I feel the need to keep this from her? I've been so afraid of her seeing him in me, or worse, the weak man I have actually become because of him. I should have known better. This woman loves me boundlessly and unconditionally, and always has; why have I doubted her?

"I want to make this work, Bella. I don't want you to leave me, I'm sorry I ever said that. I know I don't deserve you, but God, I can't imagine my life without you."

I feel her lips tremble against my temple, brushing one more kiss over my skin before pulling back to look at me with tears in her eyes. "I'm not going to leave you. All I've ever wanted or needed is my husband back."

I nod, my fingers pressing into her hips to pull her closer to me. My forehead rests on her shoulder and I feel her hand caressing the back of my neck, and my arms tighten around her waist to hold her more securely. I can't speak, overwhelmed in the comfort and protection of her embrace as she cradles me against her.

"I'm right here, Edward. I'm not going anywhere."

**x-x-x**

At some point, I must have fallen asleep, completely drained from the rollercoaster of the entire day. I open my eyes, and my head is not on my wife's shoulder anymore. Instead, I find my face settled on her lap and her fingers stroking over my hair. It is so soothing, I close my eyes again, wanting to hold on to that moment, but sleep won't reclaim me as I wish it to. "What time is it?"

"Almost three," Bella answers softly and I turn my head quickly to gaze up at her. The sky outside the window behind her is pitch black, and she looks exhausted—it's three _a.m._

"It's the middle of the night, Bella. Why aren't you asleep?" I ask, sitting up from her lap and rubbing my palms into my eyes. "You have to be up early, don't you?"

"I have sick time I can use. Some things are more important, and I wasn't going to leave you here," she says and I turn my gaze toward her when I feel her hand rest on my shoulder. "You matter so much more to me than any job, even if I _liked_ it. How are you feeling?"

The creases in her forehead clearly display her concern for me and her exhaustion is coming through in waves with the red rings around her eyes. I sigh and lift my hand to brush her hair back from her face, gazing at her silently for a moment. She is such an amazing and patient woman, and she's shown that in full force tonight. Even when I could see her heart breaking right in front of me with my words, she never gave up the fight for us. And here she sits, after watching me at my weakest moment, looking at me like I'm still the most sacred thing in the world to her. I really don't deserve her after everything I've put her through, but I am so grateful that she never threw in the towel.

"I'll be okay, Bella. You should get some sleep. I'm just going to grab something to eat and crash out again, most likely, anyway," I reply, brushing my fingertips gently on her cheek.

Bella straightens and looks at me. "Okay. I left you a plate in the refrigerator from dinner. I can heat it up for you before I go to bed."

I catch her hand as she rises, holding her still, and her head spins to look down to me. I feel the tension creeping back into my shoulders and I tighten my fingers around hers as I stand up in front of her. I wasn't going to be my father, expecting her to wait on me. She deserved far better than to be like my mother, saying 'how high?' long before I can even _think_ the word jump. No, that isn't going to be us. "I'll get my dinner. Don't worry about me."

"You've got a hope and a prayer of that happening. It's kinda part of this whole wife gig to worry," she answers softly with a small smile, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "I love you. Good night."

"I love you, too, Bella," I reply, but as she begins to step away, my hold still doesn't release on her. She stops and looks me over questioningly before I can speak again. "Do we have another appointment with Juan?"

Bella's smile returns and she slowly brings her lips to mine, brushing them softly and I actually shiver from the sensation it causes inside me. I've missed holding, kissing and touching my wife so damn much. "Yes, we do. Even when you walked out again, I still wasn't ready to give up on us."

"Thank you, Bella," I whisper in a gust of breath, hugging her against me and burying my face in her neck. "I won't walk away this time, I promise."

* * *

**Do I foresee some hope? *crosses fingers***

**As I have said before in another story I wrote where Jasper was the colossal douchebag, I honestly don't hate canon Carlisle. Actually quite adore him, as a matter of fact. After I wrote this last year, I sat down and had myself a mini Twilight marathon (since it was before BD2 even came out in theaters, let alone bluray) to spend some quality time with Carlisle, as well as Edward, with a pint of ice cream and a package of cookies. Yes, I am quite aware that I am a dork, ericastwilight tells me that ALL the time :) **

**Thanks again. **


	5. Holding On

**A/N: I did not forget to post on Saturday, I just had a lot come up over the weekend and just had no time to post at all since. So now I've been trying to get myself situated again so that I can write on a consistent basis, as I do want to finish this up and With One Word as well, so I can also start concentrate on a couple of projects with ericastwilight. I am pretty sure I am almost done writing this one, almost positive I am writing the last chapter now unless these characters try to take over on me again. And if that is the case, we are about at the halfway point in the story now. **

**Hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 5 ~ Holding On **

When we return to the office the next week, the atmosphere surrounding us is entirely different from either of the two times we've been here before. My wife is sitting close beside me on the love seat, my hand held tightly in hers, and when Juan enters the room, he cannot mask the surprise in his features. His eyebrows rise and the hint of a smile quirks at his lips as he crosses the room to sit in the center of the long couch, in the space that was once between Bella and myself in the previous sessions.

"Well, I must say, this is a pleasant surprise, given how we left off in the last session. Can I ask how things have been going?" he inquires and leans forward on his elbows, foregoing the pad of paper for the time being.

Bella looks to me in question and I nod, still nervous about speaking just yet. "Edward and I have had a long talk, several, actually. And we are getting closer to being on the same page in our effort to fix our marriage."

"That is excellent to hear. Edward, how are you feeling? I know that last time, you were very angry again. Would you care to expand upon that at all?" Juan asks delicately and I tense. "Only what you feel comfortable with."

Bella gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and her fingers fill the spaces between mine as I draw in a deep breath. Yet, my voice remains stilled in my throat. "Honey, it's okay."

I know I need to do this. For her, for me—for us. However, finding the words to do so is incredibly difficult. "I'm trying. I just don't deal well with sharing personal aspects of my life. And despite everything that's happened and all I've done, my relationship with my wife is something very sacred to me."

"I have not doubted that once, Edward. And from what I've seen, I don't think that Bella does, either," Juan says in a gentle tone and I glance over to Bella to see her smile and shake her head.

I nod, tightening my hold on Bella's hand. "I'm not angry with my wife. I'm angry at myself for not being the husband she deserves. And at my father for instilling this in me. I don't _want_ to be him."

After another deep breath, I begin to explain to him everything I've told Bella about my childhood and the beliefs I was raised with. I can feel my wife's thumb run along mine in a comforting gesture as my anxiety begins to rise, as if my father is going to burst through the door any second and start screaming at me.

"Are you afraid of your father, Edward?" he asks carefully and I feel my whole body go rigid. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, if that is the case."

I quickly shake my head. "I'm not afraid of _him_. And I don't hate my father as much as I despise the effect that he still has on every aspect of my life, including, and most especially, my relationship with my wife. And my fear of having children of my own."

"And that is an understandable fear. Abuse can, in some cases, become generational. But only if we allow it to be, as individuals," Juan states, folding his hands in front of him. "And sometimes, the abused child grows up to be a phenomenal parent, because they don't ever wish to inflict the pain they experienced while growing up on their own children. And the fact that you have these fears sets you far apart from your father already, Edward."

I release Bella's hand and clasp my head between mine, feeling her rub my back supportively. I've never really thought of myself as abused, at least not in those terms, and hearing my childhood referenced that way shakes me. Once again, I am fighting the urge to stand up and leave. It's getting too personal and making me exceedingly uncomfortable. Even with as much as I don't get along with my father, I feel a sense of loyalty to him and I can't stand the thought of betraying him this way. I glance over to my wife and I see that knowing look in her eyes, begging me to _keep_ fighting.

"Edward, you really have taken an extraordinary step today, and if you feel the need to stop early, we can do that, and pick this up next time. But I'd still like to see this continue at home," Juan say, gesturing his hand between the two of us, and I feel Bella's arm circle around my back. "You have a very special, beautiful woman at your side, and she's still right there. Try to find it in yourself to trust her."

I tense with his words but nod as I stand from the loveseat, pulling Bella close to my side and holding her hand securely in mine. "Yes. I would like to go now."

"Okay," Bella whispers, squeezing her fingers gently around mine and then looks to back to Juan. "We'll see you next week."

We walk out of the office and stop at the front desk to make another appointment, but I never release my hold on her until I absolutely have to when we reach the car. My head is starting to pound from the anxiety of the last forty minutes in that office and I stop, reaching into my pocket for the keys.

"Here, can you drive instead?" I ask, holding them out to her.

"Are you okay?" she inquires worriedly, placing her hand on my arm.

"Yeah. I just…I'm not feeling too well," I reply vaguely and step away to walk over to the passenger side, lowering myself into the car without another word.

Bella gets in as well and starts the engine, clicking her seatbelt in place as I lean my head back against the rest. "Please just don't shut me out again, Edward. That's all I'm asking. All right?"

"I'm not. It's just been a really long day," I say, running my fingertips along my forehead.

Bella sighs softly and pulls out of the parking lot, driving in silence all the way home. When we step into the house, I begin to make my way to the couch to lie down and feel her hand take mine to stop me. "Let's go upstairs."

I look over and lock gazes with her as her thumb runs over my wedding ring. "Bella, I don't think that's a good idea. I really just don't feel well, and Juan said…"

"I know what Juan said. And what _I_ said, for that matter," she interrupts me, her eyes never leaving mine. "But I would really like to lay down next to my husband right now. Nothing like _that_. I just want to hold you and feel your arms around me, too. In our bed."

I say nothing more as she guides us to the stairs, taking one slow step after another, with me right behind her. For the first time in months, I set foot in our room, hand in hand with Bella, to lie down beside my wife and feel her body press against my side. Her leg drapes over mine and her arm secures tightly around my waist. I gently press my lips to her hair as I hold her to me, my eyes closing against the growing pain in my head.

"I really do love you, Edward," she whispers and my embrace tightens around her. "You know that you're the only one I care about appealing to, don't you?"

I open my eyes again to look at her and catch the hint of a smile teasing at her lips. Her hand moves up my chest and neck to cup my jaw and she kisses me gently. "Yes, why?"

"You were jealous when Juan called me beautiful today," she replies and I turn my head away. Sometimes, I hate how well she can read me, even I'm acting on instinct and not really thinking about it. Yet at the same time, it's also the most amazing feeling in the world for her us to be that in tune with one another—just makes me feel a little foolish. I'm nearly thirty, for crying out loud. I'm admonishing myself for my immature behavior when I feel her hand come to my face and pull it back to look at her again. "I liked it. I know you think it's childish, but it really _does_ feel good to know that the man I love still thinks I'm something to be jealous over."

"Of course, you are. You're more beautiful now than the day I married you. And I know I'm not the only man who notices that, but it doesn't mean I like it much," I answer, covering her hand on my face with mine. "I never want to lose you to one of them. I love you so much, baby."

"I know you do, but you won't. I'm _all_ yours," she replies, kissing me again. "In every way. I could never love or want another man the way I do with you. And thank you. For trusting me and putting yourself out there for us today. It meant everything to me."

"I want this to work, Bella. I really do," I tell her, wincing slightly as my forehead touches hers.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you need something?" Bella asks, her hand shifting under mine to run over my cheek.

I shake my head slowly with my eyes closed, wrapping my arms back around her. "Only you. It's just a headache."

"Well, I can get you a couple of Tylenol or something," she says, beginning to roll away, but I won't let her go.

"Please, just don't move. It's been so long," I reply, a desperate tone to my voice as I tighten my hold on her.

"Okay, I'm right here," she murmurs, brushing her lips on my jaw. "Just rest."


	6. Work In Progress

**Chapter 6 ~ Work in Progress**

When I wake hours later, I feel disoriented, although my headache has subsided with sleep. It's dark and I'm in our bed, but I'm alone and an irrational panic surges through me at Bella's absence.

I rise and make my way downstairs, finding the living room dark, but soft light is glowing from the kitchen. As I enter the room, I see my wife standing by the stove and our small table is set with a single candle flickering in the center.

Bella turns her head to look over her shoulder at me and a smile appears on her face. "Hey, I was just about to come and wake you up. It was getting late, and I thought you might want something to eat."

There is a nervousness to her voice as she speaks and then crosses the room with what appears to be Shepard's pie; one of my favorites.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about earlier," I mumble quietly, walking over to her and kissing her cheek.

"Edward, you have nothing to be sorry for. You were exhausted after a very stressful session with Juan," Bella replies and shakes her head, but then her eyes lower as she takes her lip between her teeth. "Please don't be mad."

I feel my eyebrows pull together, watching her arms wrap tightly around her middle. "About what?"

"I was thinking after you fell asleep earlier. I know we still have a long road ahead of us, and I also know that you hate the idea of 'dating your wife'," Bella starts, finally lifting her eyes to meet mine again. "But I can't remember the last time we just sat down and had dinner together. Even in the last few weeks, it's been something we've squeezed in, between talking and sleep. And lying up there in bed with you tonight, I realized just how much I really do miss the little things with us. You don't have to look at it like a date, but I really would like to sit down and have a quiet dinner with my husband."

I glance around the kitchen to all the effort she's put into tonight, between making dinner and the candles dimly lighting the room, to the wine glasses and bottle of merlot set to the side of the table. Wine and Shepard's pie really seems like a bit of an odd combination, but there's such a hopeful look in Bella's eyes as she waits for my response. As much as I do indeed dislike the idea of dating my wife, I find that I don't want to disappoint her more. "Okay. We can do that."

A smile graces her features that I haven't seen in so long, I've forgotten just how beautiful it is. It illuminates her entire face and accentuates the soft lines around her eyes from much better times in our relationship. It is painful to remember, but I am willing to do just about anything to rekindle them—dinner seems like such a simple request.

We sit down across from each other and gaze expectantly at one another, and my God, she was right again. We are so out of practice with the simplest of things, we can't even figure out how to go about something as small as who starts.

"Ladies first," I tell her, gesturing with my hand and she shakes her head.

"No, I'm the cook."

"And I'm a gentleman … mostly," I answer and she growls at my smirk.

Bella folds her arms on the table and leans forward, quirking an eyebrow at me. "Okay, when was the last time you ate?"

I sigh and lean back; she _knows_ she has one up on me there. If there is one thing I know about my wife, it's that she is very conscious of her health and eating regularly. For years, she tried to get me on a healthy schedule, but between school and work, I didn't keep up on it, and she finally gave up—but apparently, never forgot.

"I win. You first," she says with a triumphant smile, and it was my turn to snarl playfully at her.

In many ways, it passes much like a first date; nervous smiles, small talk between bites, and finally, walking her to the "door", also known as the foot of the stairs. We pause and stare at each other there, and I take her hand gently in mine.

"So, since it's our first date and all, can I kiss you goodnight, or should I be hoping and praying I get a second one?" I ask as I run my thumb gently over her knuckles.

Bella appears stunned and confused for a moment, and then her smile returns. "Well, I'm pretty certain there'll be a second. I kinda like you. So I think one kiss would be fine."

It is such a comforting feeling to have even an instant of lightheartness between us again after weeks of heavy conversation and years of tension and fights, or worse, complete silence. I step closer to her, brushing the backs of my fingers over her cheek and gently pressing my lips to hers. "Thank you for tonight, Bella."

"You're welcome. And thank _you_ for going along with it," she whispers back with her hands resting on either side of my waist. "It meant a lot to me, and even more so because of how much you hated it and never let it show."

"I didn't mind so much. In fact, I think I'd like to do it again," I reply and her dark eyes gaze up at me in wonder, as if she were looking at someone she barely knew, rather than her husband of more than seven years. "Do you think you'll be available for dinner Friday night? Maybe I can take you out somewhere really nice? Impress you, perhaps?"

Bella screws up her mouth in mock thought, humming softly, and it's taking everything in me not to kiss her again. "Well, I have to check my schedule to make sure, but I think that just might be doable. I don't put out until at _least_ the third date, though."

I know that's code for "until we talk to Juan", but I am too caught up in our moment here to let it get to me. I love her and I want things to be good with us again. And with so much air cleared between us in the last few weeks, and how easy and _fun_ tonight has been, I finally feel some real hope.

"You're worth the wait," I reply, tracing her cheekbone lightly with my thumb, and I feel her shiver at the motion. Her eyes tear a little but she quickly blinks them away, and I lean over to kiss the corner of her mouth. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward," she whispers back against my ear as I hug her, clinging her fingers to my shirt and holding me there for a moment to softly add, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I murmur in return and she finally pulls away to head upstairs for the night.

I go to sleep tonight with a smile on my face. Even though falling asleep with my wife in my arms this afternoon was incredible and I still miss her now, it's different. Tomorrow has more of a promise than it did even earlier today and I don't feel nearly as hopeless anymore.

**x-x-x**

"Really?" Juan responds in shock, his eyes wide in disbelief once we tell him of our one impromptu and one planned date last week, as well as our scheduled one for this Friday. "And tell me, how did that go?"

I smile and nod, and then look over to Bella, my face falling when I find her crying. "Bella, what's wrong?"

She shakes her head but never looks up, and my stomach tightens. I thought we'd enjoyed ourselves and had a couple of pretty amazing evenings of talking, laughing, and simply reconnecting. Yet, for some reason, they are making Bella cry and I feel so lost.

"Were they not what you'd hoped they'd be, Bella?" Juan asks curiously and my gaze is just as inquiring.

"They were the best nights I've had with him in so long, but now, I miss him even more," Bella replies at last, looking to Juan and then me. "I actually felt like I had my husband back for a little while, like the man I married seven years ago, and then I still went to bed alone. I hate that part, but I don't want everything else to disappear."

I sigh and fold my fingers between hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Bella, I almost lost you once because of things changing between us. I won't let that happen again. I love you too damn much."

"This is excellent," Juan says and Bella and I break gazes to look at him while keeping our hands joined between us. "The open, unprompted communication you just displayed here was a very positive step, and a huge difference from even last week. Did you talk to each other any more about what we discussed in our last session?"

I feel Bella's hold secure on my hand supportively and I take a deep breath before answering. "Yes. Not on our date night, obviously, but in between. Slowly, since I'm still not overly comfortable talking about my childhood or family in general. It has nothing to do with Bella or my comfort with _her_, and I'm trying, it's just hard."

"And I won't push him. I know he'll talk to me when he's ready, and he knows I'm always here. I don't need everything at once," Bella adds, releasing my hand to slip hers around my arm and unconsciously moving closer, almost protectively.

"That's good, Bella. He'll need your support through this and it will very likely be a slow, gradual process. Now, Edward," Juan says, turning his eyes to me and I try to stomp down the nervousness rising inside me. "When we started here, you both put it on the table what you each thought were the main sources of the difficulties in your marriage. Bella said it was communication between you, and you believed it was her desire to have children that you didn't share. Is that still the case?"

I sigh heavily and look down to where Bella's hand still rests on my elbow, running my fingertips over her rings and gazing at my own. "I don't know. I mean, I understand that I am not my father, and Bella would be a fabulous mother. She wouldn't allow what was done to me to happen to our own children. And I love her more than anything in this world. I'm just not sure I'm quite at the point to make that kind of leap, to say I'm ready to have a child."

"Edward, I wasn't expecting some kind of miraculous change overnight," Bella replies with understanding. "All I ever really wanted was honesty and openness from you. And we're at least on that track now."

"That being said, do you wish to share a bed with your wife again, Edward?" Juan asks and I bring my eyes back to him, bristling on instinct. I feel as if I'm letting my wife down by putting up my guard again at the mention of the intimate aspects of my marriage with Bella, but I also can't seem to stop it.

"We're not just talking about sex, honey. At least, _I'm_ not," Bella adds, her gaze flickering to Juan for a moment before returning to me. "I'd like to sleep with my husband in the bed with me. I've missed just feeling you there, and it's still very difficult for me to get to _and_ stay asleep alone after years of sleeping beside you. Sex is great, but not a requirement."

I glance between the two of them, holding Bella's hand like a lifeline and swallowing against the lump in my throat. "I do. I miss being next to her at night and haven't slept well in months, either. Except those brief few hours last week. And … sex."

"Tell Bella that," Juan encourages and gestures to my wife with his hand, obviously noticing the lingering hesitance in my voice.

I work my jaw tensely; it was difficult enough to simply answer Juan's question without having such a personal conversation with my wife in front of someone else. Nevertheless, I turn toward her on the cushion and hold her hand on my knee—we _both_ need this. "I miss you, too, Bella. I'd like to be back in bed with you at night. And I miss making love to you."

Bella smiles through the tears spilling down her cheeks, even though my voice was still low. It was loud enough for her to hear, and that's all that seems to matter to her for the moment. We both look to Juan in question and his expression is very similar to my wife's. "So, what do you suggest?"

_And once again, my sex life with Bella is going to be determined by someone else_, I think to myself, but I don't vocalize it. I don't want to hinder any progress we've made here today.

Juan hums in apparent contemplation, running his index finger and thumb along his chin. He then leans forward on his knees as he does when he is about to speak very frankly to us, and my body goes rigid in response. "I believe that should be left to the two of you to decide."

Both Bella and I are stunned by his statement and her eyes meet mine, her lips quirking a little at the corners before we both look back to Juan.

"I've seen many couples over the years, having difficulties for a multitude of reasons. And regardless of how long I work with them or the outcome at the end, I am only a guide. Some things I can give you suggestions on, but they are only that. Suggestions. The course you ultimately decide to take together is, at the end of the day, yours to make. You've both made some amazing progress from the first day you stepped in here a few weeks ago, barely even able to look at each other. It's very obvious how much you love one another and I think you're in a place where you can make choices that are best for _you_, not what anyone else thinks or tells you. I also believe that if you can remain on this path you're on, you may not need me anymore."

"Already?" Bella asks in stunned disbelief and I look over to her with wide eyes, and she begins shaking her head. "I mean, I'm not upset about that. I'd like to be able to just get back to my life with you. I just thought marriage counseling took longer, that's all."

"It only takes as long as the couple requires, and I believe you have the tools you need to keep and maintain a very strong marriage, if you take the initiative to use them. But it doesn't matter as much what _I _believe, but that _you _do. And do you, Bella?" Juan asks, only looking at my wife now.

Bella glances at me, smiles and then nods. "Yes, I really think we do now."

"So do I," I add and tighten my hold on her hand.

"Excellent. Right there is the most important tool you have. Faith in one another. If you would like another session to follow up after this Friday, you can certainly schedule one, but again, it's suggestion, not instruction. If you don't feel you need one, I wish you the best of luck."

Bella and I stand up together and smile at one another, and it's the best feeling in the world to have her so close to me again. I can take comfort in every squeeze of her fingers around mine, her cheek resting against my upper arm, and her eyes still holding so much love for me.

"And Edward, if you ever feel you need help with anything else, there's no shame in asking for it," Juan says calmly, and I shake my head.

"No. Bella is all I need for that," I reply and feel her other hand cover the back of mine, and she nods in agreement.

"All right, then. Good luck, and take care of each other," Juan answers and stands from the couch, holding his hand out to bid us farewell.

I shake it, as does Bella, and then she adds, "Thank you so much for everything, Juan."

"You are very welcome."


	7. Every Night Should Be Like This

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for still sticking with this story and the lovely reviews. They mean a lot to me, as they always do, but particular with the subject matter so far. This is a relatively light chapter, in comparison, and a bit more happy times for Edward and Bella. Hope you guys enjoy. **

**And thank you to ericastwilight for just being so awesome, and for my chapter titles, because I just suck lol. **

* * *

**Chapter 7 ~ Every Night Should Be Like This**

Bella and I do share our bed together for the next couple of nights, but more to enjoy the closeness of feeling the other next to us, to hold and touch. We both seem nervous to jump back into the sexual aspect of our marriage, despite the admission on each of our parts to missing it.

Yet, as we return to the house after dinner on Friday night, the atmosphere shifts. She looks so beautiful tonight and took my breath away when I came home from work, and found her standing in our bathroom wearing that burgundy dress while she was putting on her earrings. I leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her for a moment until she noticed my presence there. The deep red of her dress contrasted with her pale skin, making the long curls of her hair down her back and over her shoulder appear that much darker as well. And when my eyes met hers, I found a glimmer in them that had been missing for so long—she was happy, and God, was she beautiful.

"What?" she asked, chuckling softly but still shifting under my gaze as it ran over her. "Is something wrong?"

"I can't just take a moment to stare at my beautiful wife without something being wrong?" I responded, stepping up behind her and gazing at our reflections in the mirror for a moment before kissing the softly scented skin at the base of her neck. My arms wrapped around her waist and I felt her hand rest on the sleeve of my shirt, tilting her back a little to settle against my shoulder. God, it felt so good to have those simple moments back with her, I almost didn't let her go until she reminded me that I still needed to change before we left.

Though she still managed to stop me for a soft kiss before I got too far away.

And now, I am standing behind her once again as she sheds her coat just inside the front door, and then turns to face me. My heart is beating faster than it did on our first date, our first kiss, and the first time I made love to her combined. We both know what each of us wants, but as far as how to progress to that, neither of us seems sure.

Bella steps closer and places her hand on my cheek, brushing a soft kiss on my lips before pulling back. "I'm going to change and take out my contacts. Give me five minutes."

I take a deep breath as she walks away to head up to the bathroom, letting it out slowly and tugging my tie loose. I hate feeling this nervous with her; she is my wife, my Bella. We've been together for a total of nearly ten years, and in that time, we've made love hundreds, if not thousands, of times. It seems utterly ridiculous to feel this way.

However, it has been months since I've touched her with more than an embrace, holding her hand, or gently brushing my fingers on her cheek. I've almost forgotten the intimacy we once shared when we made love, as that has been absent for so much longer. I am realizing now just how much I've missed it, but have no idea how to reclaim it without my base desires for her taking over.

Case in point as she enters the bedroom wearing a thigh length, navy blue negligee, standing in the doorway temptingly.

"Oh fuck," I mean to say in my head but it falls from my lips instead.

"Guess I made a good choice then," Bella replies with a laugh, making her way over to me and bringing her fingers to the buttons of my shirt still left undone. Her eyes have a hazy appearance to them as they look up to me and her hands slip beneath the fabric the instant after she finishes unfastening it. "I know it's been a while and we should really be focusing on _us_, but I've really missed you, Edward. And I need you."

I moan as her lips meet mine and bring my fingers to the thin straps of her negligee, lowering them both at once from her shoulders. I feel the flutter of the satin fabric beginning its descent down her body on my stomach and her hands claim my face between them as I back her toward the bed. "I love you so damn much, Bella."

Bella's lips tremble with her smile and her fingers make their way back to my hair, holding me against her. "You have no idea how much I've missed that, too."

I lay her down on the bed and hover over her, gazing down into her dark eyes. "What, baby?"

"Hearing you say you love me like that, and being able to _feel_ that you mean it," she replies with a tear trickling down her temple.

I shake my head and brush the backs of my fingers over the dampened skin, kissing her lips gently. "I always have, and I always will. And I promise to make sure you feel that every single day for the rest of my life."

Bella's smile is breathtaking as she runs her hands over my back for a moment before sliding between us and unfastening my belt. "Let's think about that tomorrow. Tonight, I would really like to concentrate on my gorgeous husband making love to me."

With one more kiss to her lips, I stand from the bed to remove my pants, despite my wife's soft whimpers for me to come back to her because she's cold. I can actually see the goose bumps rise on her naked flesh, and feel the slight chill in the air of the room around us myself. So I hasten my movements and tug the blanket from beneath her, pulling it around both our bodies as I settle back on top of her. "Better?"

Bella nods, holding my eyes as she slides her arms around me again. "Yes. _So_ much better."

Pressing my lips to her forehead, I begin to enter her and feel the pressure of her fingertips on my shoulder blades. It has been so long, _too_ long—something I've sworn to her would never happen again. There won't be a next time; I know damn well I could never live without her.

When our bodies at last meet fully, we lay still with our gazes locked and only the softest of touches grazing one another's skin. We don't need to say I love you, or anything at all for that matter. Everything we need to know is clearly written in our eyes, shown in every kiss, felt in every touch. Yet we still do, over and over again as I start moving inside her and it's the most intense feeling I can remember having in years. Coming back together with my wife this way means so much more than satisfying the physical need I've always had for her. It's all about the love we feel for one another and recapturing that intimacy that it seems we've _both_ missed.

The arch of her foot begins to glide along the back of my thigh, hitching her knee to press against my side. Each of us moans as I fill her deeper and I can feel myself quickly climbing toward my peak, and when I feel her nails drag over my shoulders, it sends a shiver through my entire body. I groan against her neck with my release and tremble in her arms as her lips move along my dampened brow.

Bella's fingers run through my hair when I finally collapse on top of her, caressing my skin and I feel her smile against my forehead. "I really do love you so much, Edward."

I lift my head to look at her and press my lips softly to hers. "I love you, too, baby. I want every day to end like this."

"It will," she replies and curls into my side as I roll onto my back next to her. I wrap my arms around her securely and nuzzle into her hair, enjoying the feel and scent of the beautiful woman beside me. Her palm rests over my pounding heart, her fingertips making faint movements over my chest. "I need to ask you something. There's something I want to do, and I hope it doesn't make you angry."

I am almost certain I know what's coming and I'm trying not to ruin the moment we're sharing or all the progress we've made by going on the defensive. "I need a little more time, honey. I'm not saying never, but I'm not ready for that just yet."

"Not that," Bella replies softly and raises her head from my shoulder. "I don't think either of us is ready for that step just yet, no matter how good things are between us right now. I was wondering how you would feel about renewing our vows. This is a new start for us and I'd really like to do it right this time. Go back to the beginning with a clean slate."

I watch her eyes move between mine in a nervous flicker, her hand curling against my chest. "You want to get married again?"

Bella draws in a shaky breath and nods with a hard swallow. "I'd like to recommit ourselves to each other. With the past behind us and only our future ahead. I've been thinking about it for a few days, but I didn't know how you would feel about something like that. We don't _have_ to, it was just a thought."

My hand moves to rest over hers on my chest as I ghost my touch along her neck with the other. She begins to speak again but I tighten my hold gently on her fingers to stop her. "I'd like that, Bella. I really would. Maybe I could even take you away for a weekend on a mini honeymoon since we never got one."

"Really?" Bella asks with a wide, beautiful smile and tears rimming her eyes. "You'd really do that?"

"For you, I will do anything. But I want that, too, baby. Fresh start," I whisper and she kisses me, and then settles her head back down on my shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly in return, her lips pressing to my chest and her body snuggling closer to my side. "Love you."

My arms encircle her shoulders and I rest my cheek against her hair. "Love you, too."


	8. Beside Her

**A/N: Edward's dysfunctional family makes an appearance in this chapter. I was in a particularly bad mood the day I wrote the first part of it, so I apologize if that comes through here. But it doesn't last long, and happier stuff in the end. **

* * *

**Chapter 8 ~ Beside Her**

Bella and I arrange a rededication ceremony for three weeks later, and to my surprise, my brother makes a request to be there. He apologizes for not being present at my first wedding to Bella, but finally explains that he'd spent the day comforting our mother as she cried over missing a very special day in her son's life. Our father had banned her from attending and it broke her heart.

This angers me and snaps something deep inside. All this time, I've believed that my mother had just not approved of my marriage to Bella, as she's never told me any different in the seven years since our wedding. But there was nothing but honesty in my brother's eyes when he spoke to me, and I've finally had enough.

For the first time in a few years, I find myself at my parents' door, knocking on it like just another visitor. My mother answers with wide eyes as she spots me here, but just as quickly stiffens when my father's voice sounds behind her.

"Well, Edward, isn't this a surprise," he says in that cool tone I'd grown accustomed to throughout my childhood, but now, it just pisses me off.

"Yes, I've come to bring my mother to my wedding," I reply with a hard glare directed at him.

"No, I don't think that will be possible. Your mother and I already have a prior engagement," he answers, folding his arms over his chest. "She doesn't have time for your ridiculous ritual with that woman. We didn't approve of you marrying her in the first place, and now look at you. She's destroyed you."

My fists ball at my sides and my jaw tenses, and I move past my mother to approach him. "You listen here, you son of a bitch. 'That woman' has a name and it's Bella, and she is my wife. And you will _never_ speak of her that way in my presence again. And you are _not_ going to deny my mother of attending my wedding the way you did last time. I want her there, so you can go and do whatever it is you just _happened_ to plan for today, without her, for once."

My father's eyes hardened on me and his nostrils flare in anger. "No, _you_ listen. You will not disrespect me like this. I'm your father and I didn't raise you this way."

"You didn't raise me, you _trained_ me. To be your perfect little clone. And you have nearly destroyed my life in doing so, and I am _done_ allowing you to," I seethe and he appears momentarily stunned that I am not backing down from him as I used to. "Respect is earned, _Father_. Not commanded. I have tried so hard to be everything you expected me to be and it doesn't matter to you. You've robbed me of a mother for my entire life, but not today. I _will _have her there this time and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. And Bella is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I know what happiness is because of _her_. She's not my servant or my possession, she is my _wife_. But because I allowed you to fuck with my head all these years, I've hurt her so badly that I almost lost her."

"Don't blame me because, like your brother, you allowed a woman to walk all over and completely emasculate you," my father sneers at me, taking my mother's arm and pulling her to his side. "Now I suggest you leave my house immediately. Your mother and I have things to attend to, and you wouldn't want to be late for your little … whatever it is you want to call this thing."

"I am not leaving without my mother," I reply flatly and glace over to her briefly, before returning my gaze to my father. "Mom, let's go, please."

"Your mother does not wish to attend this farce," my father grinds out through clenched teeth.

"Yes, I do," my mother finally speaks up and we both look over to her, finding tears spilling down her cheeks as she turns her gaze up to my father. "He is my son and I love him, Carlisle. And I want to see Edward get married. I don't want to miss this again."

My father's glare at her is so fierce, I am almost afraid that it will cause her to back down from him again. His hand tightens on her arm as she tries to remove it from his hold and she winces when it pinches her skin. "You are not going, Esme."

"Carlisle, stop. Please, you're hurting me," she cries out with a sob and it is the last straw for me.

"Get your goddamn hands off my mother!" I snarl and my father's eyes are dazed, staring down at the vice grip of his fingers just above her elbow. His hold slowly loosens until he finally releases her and she stumbles back from him with tears streaming down her face. "Mom, go. Pack your things, I need to get you out of here. You can stay at our place, if you'd like."

"Esme," my father breathes out, watching her as she backs away from him to make her way up the stairs quickly.

I step in front of him as he moves to follow her, blocking his path and shaking my head. "Stay the hell away from her. If there is one decent thing you ever _did_ teach me, it was that you _never_ lay your hands on _any_ woman like that, let alone your wife. After all she's done for you, stood beside you through all your bullshit for thirty years, even above her own children at times. And you have the nerve to treat her this way, and then talk about _my_ relationship with Bella? At least I know that my wife loves me with all her heart, and not out of fear. Can you say that? You're pathetic."

My father seems to have no reply, his entire body frozen as I've never seen before. He tries several times to utter my name, but fails with each attempt.

"Edward, please stop," my mother's voice carries softly down the stairs and we both look up to her. She is wearing a long cream dress with no sleeves and I can feel my eyes burn with fury as I spy the reddened welts rising on her skin in the shape of my father's fingers. "I'm fine. Let's go before we're late."

My gaze returns to my father and my breaths grow heavy, my fists clenching at my sides. "I should mop the floor with your ass. Is this how you think I should 'keep my wife in her place'? Manhandling her like a piece of meat?"

"Sweetheart, please, let's go," my mother repeats gently from beside me, sliding her hand around my arm.

I slowly step back from my father with her guidance, but never relax the sneer I feel curling my lip. "You're the one who'll lose, Dad. And I feel very sorry for you."

Moving to step around him, I keep myself between him and my mother, with my arm around her waist and lead her out to the car. We ride for several minutes in silence until I hear her sniffle softly and I glance over to find her face streaked with tears.

"Are you okay, Mom?" I ask and she nods in response, wiping her fingers beneath her eyes. Questions are burning to be asked, but I can't bring myself to speak again. My jaw is tense to the point of pain and my fingers are gripping the steering wheel so tight, I can almost feel it molding around them.

"He's never done anything like that before, Edward. I swear," she says, seemingly answering my unspoken thoughts. "Your father may be a lot of things, but he's not that kind of man."

"Obviously, he is," I grind out and my jaw tightens even more. "I've never understood how you could let him treat you that way. Or your kids. And I don't think I ever will."

"I love him. I know he wasn't the best father, and for that, I am more sorry than you could ever know. But he's not a bad man," she replies and I scoff, rolling my eyes. "And he does love you and your brother very much."

"Yeah and he's made that _so_ obvious by constantly reminding us of what a disappointment and embarrassment we are to him," I grumble, cracking my neck from the tension built up within it. "You've _heard_ him say these things. How does that equate to love?"

My mother sighs softly and then reaches her hand over to rest on my shoulder. "He doesn't show it the way he should. And neither did his father."

I shake my head and shift in my seat. "That's not an excuse, Mom. He didn't show me, but I still love and respect my wife, and I _never_ treat her the way he treated you back there. I would die before I laid my hands on her. And I still treat my mother with respect. Hell, I've even given it to _him_."

"Do you believe that _I_ love you, Edward?" my mother asks in a tentative voice, squeezing my shoulder gently with her fingers.

I pull into the driveway in front of my house and shift the car into park, drawing slow breaths through my nose as I cut the engine. My eyes close and I lean my head back against the seat, nodding. "Somehow, that's something I've never doubted, even if it wasn't clearly displayed. I wouldn't have asked you to come today if I didn't believe that to some degree."

I felt my mother's hand lower to mine and take it gently, folding her fingers around it until I hear her breath catch and she whispers, "Is that her?"

I turn my head to look at her again and her eyes are fixed on the house, and I follow her gaze to the front door. My lips finally loosen and a smile tugs at them when I spot my wife standing beside my brother. "Yes, that's my Bella."

I feel my mother's hand secure around mine and she exhales a shaky breath. I return my gaze to her again to finger her eyes welling and lips trembling as she gazes at the beautiful vision in our doorway. "I would really like to meet her."

I nod and break contact with her to get out, jogging over to the other side of the car to open her door. My mother's hand is shaking as she places it in mine and rises beside me, securing her hold on me as we walk toward the house. "Bella, I would like you to meet my mother, Esme. Mom, this is my wife, Bella."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen," Bella replies with a soft, kind smile, holding a hand out to greet her.

My mother chokes out a sob and steps away from me, moving toward Bella and pulling her into a tight embrace. "It's so good to finally meet you."

Bella gazes at me, stunned by my mother's actions, but slowly brings her arms around her waist and hugs her in return.

"Thank you," my mother whispers, kissing Bella's hair and squeezing her more securely. "Thank you so much for loving my son."

**x-x-x**

I am pacing nervously as if I'm twenty years old all over again, and getting ready to vow my life to the woman I love for the first time. I'm actually sweating a little around my collar, but more out of anxiousness to see her, as if I hadn't only been apart from her for a matter of a couple of hours.

My mother is gazing up at me with the most genuine smile I can remember seeing on her in my entire life, as she leans against my brother's arm. My sister-in-law, Rosalie, is doing everything she can to wrangle their two children, despite her rapidly expanding waistline with number three, and get them settled into their seats. For the first time in as long as I could recall, despite my anxiety otherwise, I feel completely relaxed in the presence of my family.

And in that moment, my breath is stolen from me.

Those beautiful brown eyes I fell in love with more than a decade ago stare back at me from the doorway and I notice nothing else in the room but her. My smile grows as I watch those creases form around them; she's so happy, though I know it's not entirely caused by me, but for once, I don't mind sharing.

Part of it is due to the man walking beside her, covering her hand with his where it rests on his arm as he walks her to me, seemingly holding on as if he never wants to let go—Bella's father, Charlie.

Her relationship with her parents hasn't been nearly as strained as my own with mine, and it was obvious that it broke her heart when we got married without her father present. So when he told her that he wanted to come this time, I held her for an hour after she got off the phone with him as she cried; it meant the world to her, knowing that her father would be there to give her away when we renewed our vows.

And those tears are still glistening in her eyes as she walks toward me in that beautiful gown. She is absolutely breathtaking, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world for the second chance we've been given. Once they reach me, Charlie bends to kiss her cheek and slowly looks to me as he releases his hold on her, and then turns to take his seat beside her mother.

Bella and I repeat the vows we made to each other nearly eight years ago, promising to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives. I thought I knew exactly how much I had to lose when I stood in front of her this way back then, but now, I realize I had no idea. I swear to myself that I will never give either of us reason to think on it ever again.

With our new rings in place and her hands set gently in mine, I lean forward to press my lips to hers. Bella whimpers as I part from her and I smile as the hint of a blush touches her cheeks, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

"I love you, Bella," I whisper with our foreheads pressed together and gaze into her eyes.

They roll back to force away tears but her smile is radiant as she looks back at me. "I love you, too."

Our fingers weave together and we turn to make our way back down the short aisle, and I take in my surroundings. My mother had long wet trails streaming down her face, leaning into my brother's side, and I have to admit, it feels good to see her so happy. Emmett has his arm around her shoulders, with his other being held by Rosalie, and he smirks at me with a wink. Charlie visibly clears his throat when Bella's mother nudges his arm, giving us a nod as we pass him, but managing a smile when Bella mouths "Love you, Dad."

Finally, my life feels damn near close to perfect. Surrounded by my family and the woman I love more than anything in the world beside me and seeming just as happy to be there as I am to have her.

**x-x-x**

"Okay, close your eyes," I instruct Bella as we're about to reach our destination, and she gives me a suspicious look. I can't help but smile and chuckle, before reaching my hand over to hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Trust me."

At that, she exhales softly, leaning her head back against her seat and closing her eyes with a smile. I'd be lying if I said that that small action from her doesn't still make me grin like a fool and cause my heart to race. She didn't hesitate for a moment to respond to the two simple, yet what could be such weighted words between us, and her hand squeezes mine in an affectionate gesture as I raise it to my lips to brush them on her knuckles.

I only release my hold on her long enough to park and make my way to her door, taking her other hand to help her out of the car. Her anxious anticipation is visible on her features, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her closed lids and her bottom lip held tight between her teeth. I gently raise my hand to her face and release it with my thumb, and immediately brush a soft kiss against it. "Relax, baby. There's nothing to be nervous about."

"Then can I open my eyes?" Bella asks in a teasing tone and my smile widens, slipping my arm around her waist and kissing her temple. She leans into my touch with a subtle, contented sigh and her entire body seems to relax into my side. "Or are you going to let me stumble around blind?"

I laugh and pinch her side lightly, and the giggle that sounds from her is so beautiful and endearing, I give in. "Yes, go ahead."

Bella draws in a slow breath before she opens her eyes and it stills abruptly. It is a rustic-looking bed and breakfast that seems to have grown into the trees and plant life surrounding it. The blend of browns amidst the green and other vibrant colors of the variety of flowers makes it feel as if we've stepped out of the real world and into our own personal fantasy, and that was exactly what I was aiming for when I started planning this little getaway with her. One week, away from everything, to do nothing but focus on each other and starting fresh.

However, when I glance over to my wife, her expression really doesn't give away much. Her eyes are flickering over her surroundings, and I feel her fingers trailing along my back, but my nervousness is getting the better of me. "What do you think?"

"I think," she replied softly, pausing to look up at me and secure both arms around my waist. "This is perfect, and I love you so much."

"I love you," I whisper in response, tilting my head down to press my lips to hers before sweeping her into my arms and causing her to shriek. Her arms encircle my neck tightly, but our kiss lingers as I begin carrying her up the front walk, until I need to break away to ascend the front steps without tripping and dropping her.

Bella's face nuzzles against my neck and I feel her fingertips running through the hair at my collar as her head lowers to my shoulder. The last time I carried her over the threshold this way, she'd rolled her eyes and laughed, calling it a silly tradition. Yet, even though we are not at our door yet, she is not laughing. She is not calling me old-fashioned, or squirming in my arms for me to put her down.

Her arms are secured around my shoulders, her ankles are crossed—she has as little intention of releasing me anytime soon as I do of her. It is a sentimental and important moment for the both of us. The ceremony was the new beginning for our marriage, and this is the fresh start of our lives together.

I finally reach the door to our room and I groan, and Bella gazes at me in question. "I really don't want to put you down, but I've just realized a little flaw in my plan to be romantic here. The key is in the inside pocket of my coat."

Her smile spreads across her lips and she brings one hand between us, sliding it inside my jacket and into the pocket. I feel her fingers bend and twist within it, finally gripping the object in question and retrieving it. "I thought you were going to tell me I've gotten too heavy for you or something."

It's obvious she's only joking, but I brush my lips on her jaw as she glides the key into the doorknob and turns it, gently pushing it open. "Not even close."

Bella releases a soft gasp as I cross the threshold with her in my arms, her eyes taking in our surroundings. She lingers for a moment when I set her feet on the floor, turning her head toward me with a smile before taking my hand and walking further into the room. Her eyes fall to the bed as we pass and her fingers gently tighten around mine, but she continues on through until we reach the doors leading out to the private deck.

The sun is beginning to set, creating a beautiful canvas of colors in the sky. My wife seems to be soaking in the sight as she makes her way to the railing and leans back against me when I step up behind her. We stand in silence with my arms wrapped around her, her fingertips tracing over the back of my hand while we stare out at the view.

"I can't believe it didn't rain. It really didn't look promising this morning," she says suddenly, tilting her head a little to press into my neck. "Remember our first wedding?"

"Like I could ever forget," I reply and her eyes turn to me, glancing up to meet mine. "Not only was it one of the best days of my life, but you also woke me up at four a. tears because it was raining."

"In my defense, that wasn't just rain. That was a torrential downpour, with thunder, lightning, and I think I even remember hail. You're lucky that I didn't take that as a sign and call off the wedding," Bella responds with a laugh.

"You were _so_ mad about those water stains on your dress," I recall with a chuckle, lowering my head and pressing my lips to the base of her neck. "Ever had any regrets about not taking the sign?"

Bella leans her cheek against me and lifts her hand to run her fingers through my hair and down my neck. "Never. Not for a moment. I wouldn't even trade the worst of times with you for better ones with anyone else. You were worth fighting for, and with. And I am more in love with you now than I've ever been. So no, I don't have any regrets about anything."

My gaze rises again and meets hers, and she draws me closer to press her lips to mine. I turn her body in my arms and tighten my hold on her, reveling in this moment we are sharing. "God, I love you, Bella."

Her hand threads into my hair and she releases a soft whimper, but her touch remains gentle, even as her nails scrape lightly along my scalp. "It's been a long day. I think we should go to bed."

The whispered words are followed by her fingers sliding down to my chest, and into the space between two of the buttons on my shirt. With the hint of a smile on her lips, she turns us toward the door, backing through it and guiding me along with her.

"No, leave it open," Bella says as I move to close the door, continuing to tug me back toward the bed. Suddenly, she stops and turns around, sweeping her hair off her neck and glancing at me over her shoulder. "Unzip me?"

I step closer and brush a kiss on the shell of her ear, slowly lowering the zipper on the back of her dress. "You looked so amazing today, baby."

"I wanted to be beautiful for you," she whispers in a shy tone, her face dipping slightly.

My fingertips rise to her chin and gently lift it, shaking my head when her eyes meet mine. "You are always beautiful to me, Bella. But you literally rendered me speechless today. I almost had to say my vows in nods and hand gestures."

A soft giggle emits from her as I brush her lips with mine, slowly guiding the dress from her shoulders until it flows down the rest of her body to the floor. She takes a step forward, removing her shoes as well, before turning to face me again and my eyes soak her in.

Bella is just as beautiful and flawless as she was on our wedding night all those years ago, and can still make me ache for her in a single glance. But words cannot describe how perfectly exquisite she is to me right now. Soft, white lace encompasses her breasts and hips, and my fingers are itching to remove all traces of it and touch every inch of her bare skin.

"Come here," she whispers, slipping her fingers through my belt loops and gently pulling me toward her. "What's wrong? You're looking at me like you haven't seen me in years."

Her statement and the perplexed expression on her face stirs me, and I raise my hand to gently graze her cheek. For so long, any intimate contact we made with one another had been in a dark room, behind closed doors and drawn curtains, more need than desire. And until a few weeks ago, I had almost completely forgotten what it was like to watch my wife's face as I made love to her. To look into her eyes and see how much she loved me, and for her to see the same reflected in mine.

Too long—and never again.

"Nothing's wrong. At all," I reply and she watches me warily s she begins to unbutton my shirt. Once she reaches the bottom, I shed the garment from my shoulders and let it fall to the floor, instantly taking her face in my hands as her fingertips explore my chest. "I swear, everything is absolutely perfect."

Bella hums against my lips as they meet hers, wrapping her arms around my back and curling her body into mine. We slowly continue to undress one another, pausing only for brief moments to gaze at each other or share a kiss. And when we finally lower together onto the bed, she shivers, yet pulls me close to her.

"Please, don't," Bella breathes out, as if knowing I am about to rise to go shut the door, opening her eyes to look up at me. "It feels good."

A gentle, cool breeze ghosts over my back as our bodies come together, and I have difficulty keeping my gaze where I want it, on Bella, with how good it actually _does_ feel. It heightens the warmth of every touch, and even leaves a strange sensation running over my skin in the trails of her fingers running along my shoulder blades as we begin to move. It changes everything about that moment. The scent of the air and even the view of my wife, blowing tiny wisps of hair around her face. She's absolutely enchanting, and I finally hold my focus exactly where it belongs.

The woman I will love and cherish for the rest of my life. My world and my future lying here beneath me at this very instant. My beautiful, amazing Bella.


End file.
